Pact Of Silence
by rexlover180
Summary: Sometimes we say things we don't mean. Those words can hurt the ones that we love most. But it may even hurt the speaker more than the listener. USUK one-shot


"**Bloody Hell! Can you even go one week without talking with your obnoxious voice! Don't you realize no one cares that you think you're everyone's hero! You probably wouldn't even be able to save yourself! You're so bloody obnoxious, why can't you take the hint that I hate you! Even Francis is better than you, dammit! Just shut up and leave me alone!"**

Those words rang through America's ears as he ran home. He didn't care it was the middle of a meeting. He didn't care it was his turn to take control of the meeting. He didn't care it was in his own country.

England, the love of his life, and just yelled at him for no reason. All he was trying to do was ask him a simple question, but he just went off on him. He was used to England yelling at him. But it was usually just to call him an idiot or to just be quiet for a little while. And it was always just yelling in England's cute way. How he didn't mean it and how he would soon become more distracted by France. But he meant it this time. He actually yelled at him with all his might. He had a fire in those eyes and he just pointed out every one of his flaws. He was the only one that didn't care most of the time. He was the only one that really understood America. But he just flat out told him that he hated him.

America ran as fast as he could until he got to his house. He flew the front door open and slammed it closed, slamming his head onto the back of the door.

England was the only one, ever, that he had decided he loved. England was the only one who hadn't pointed out all of his flaws to him so bluntly. England was the one that just ripped his heart out.

America couldn't stop the tears from flowing down his cheeks. Or the sobs from coming out of his throat. He sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the door. He threw his glasses off to somewhere in the house, he didn't care where. Those were the ones England gave him.

He tucked his legs close to him and allowed himself to cry for a while. Until he realized he was acting like some stupid teenage girl. He took a deep breath. Maybe England was right, maybe he should grow up and change for once. He obviously had to change to make him happy.

One week. That's what England said. That America couldn't last not being himself for one week. If that's what Arthur wanted, he would have it.

America dug into his pocket to pull out his phone. He immediately wrote a text to his brother, Canadia, and sent it. He would need proof that he was doing this.

"I promise, England," America muttered, resting his head on the door and looking up. "If that's what you want, I'll let you have it."

***Page Break***

"**Bloody Hell! Can you even go one week without talking with your obnoxious voice! Don't you realize no one cares that you think you're everyone's hero! You probably wouldn't even be able to save yourself! You're so bloody obnoxious, why can't you take the hint that I hate you! Even Francis is better than you, dammit! Just shut up and leave me alone!"**

The second those words came out of England's mouth, he regretted them.

He watched as America's wide smile turned to a face of shock. And then tears started to pool in his eyes and his face contorted with sorrow. England had never seen the man look so sad before.

Everyone else in the room seemed to freeze, staring at them after England's outburst. And everyone watched as America ran from the room as fast as he could. England watched in horror how eyes started coming towards him. He could feel himself shaking and starting to breathe heavily.

He couldn't have just said that to America. The one person in his whole life he never hated. Never could hate.

Thankfully, Germany cleared his throat. Getting everyone's attention off England.

"As America was the one in charge of these meetings," Germany sighed. "We will have to stop for now. The meeting will continue tomorrow, as planned."

Everyone silently got their things together and slowly filed out. England hadn't moved from his spot. Until France came by, snaking an arm over his shoulders.

"Looks like you really messed up this, time, Angleterre," France laughed and that made England twitch.

"This is all your fault frog!" England retaliated, moving so that his arm was nowhere near him. "If you hadn't gotten me as angry as you did, I wouldn't have snapped at him!"

"That was more than a snap, mon cher," France grinned. "That was a full out yell. You destroyed him."

"Don't you think I know that!" England yelled at him. He slumped down in a random chair around the meeting table. "Good Lord, I feel horrible… I didn't mean any of that."

"Sure sounded like it," France scoffed.

"I know!" England threw his head back.

"Don't worry, England," a soft voice spoke. England looked up and his mood nearly brightened. At first glance, it was America. However, he looked a little bit longer, and he saw Canada instead. "I-I'm sure America will be fine."

"Right," England sighed, trying to get over thinking he saw America. "Right."

"You are staying with him, right, Mathieu?" France asked.

"Yeah," Canada nodded. "He's invited me to stay for the week." A little tone went off. And Canada pulled out his phone. It looked like he was reading a text message. "Um, looks like I should head home now."

Canada took a step to leave, but England held onto his arm. "Wait," England pleaded. "Do you think you could tell him that I'm sorry and…and that I didn't mean it?"

"That probably won't change his mind now," Canada said.

"W-what do you mean?" England asked.

"You'll see," Canada pulled his arm away and then ran out of the room.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," England groaned, leaning back in the chair.

"You could always relieve some of your sexual tensions," France purred and England stood upright quickly.

"No," England snapped and rushed out of the room.

***Page Break***

England sighed, looking down at the ground as he walked into the meeting room. He knew people would stare at him again. America probably wasn't back yet and he still felt terrible about it. He didn't look up when he got to his seat and promptly sat down. He could hear the conversations the others were having.

"Is he okay?"

"How long do you think he'll last?"

"I give it an hour."

"I don't think it's healthy for him to stop talking."

England looked up and looked behind him. It was Prussia, Spain, and France talking.

"What are you talking about?" England asked them.

"America," Spain said, nodding over to the seat that was at the head of the meeting table.

England quickly snapped his head around. America really did come back? He could apologize to him now. And he could tell him how he really felt and…

England's thoughts stopped cold when he saw America. His normally wild hair was combed neatly, that cowlick still sticking out. His sky blue eyes were a little bit softer, a little sadder. He wasn't wearing his bomber jacket over his military uniform, like usual. He just looked…normal. He was holding a notecard over his mouth, showing it to people who came up to him.

England quickly stood up from his seat and walked over to America, who's eyes got a little sadder when he saw him. America moved the notecard towards England so he could read it. It said, "Taking a pact of silence."

England quickly looked back up at America. "How long?" that was the first question that came to his mind. America wasn't talking? Was it all his fault? America simply put the card in his breast pocket and held up five fingers in one hand and two fingers in the other. Seven. "Seven days? A week?" America nodded. "Why?" America pointed a finger right at England's chest.

England froze. It really was his fault.

"America, I want you to know I didn't mean any of that!" England pressed. "Y-You don't have to do this because of some stupid thing I said!"

"He feels like he has to," a soft voice said and England saw Canada right next to him.

"You know about this?" England demanded.

"He's having me watch him overnight as proof he's really being silent for a week," Canada said. "He started this morning."

"Is this because of what I said?" England turned his attention to America, who moved his hand in a so-so motion.

"That means kind of," Canada inputted. "What you said just made him realize that he needed to change."

"I didn't mean any of it!" England turned around to talk to Canada. "He doesn't need to change! He shouldn't change!" England stole a look back at America. His eyes were wide and a small smile was forming onto his face. "I swear I didn't mean what I said. You can talk."

America just held up seven fingers again.

"Everyone sit down," Germany sighed. England looked up at the clock. It was 8. Time for the meeting to start. England looked back at America for a second before he went to take his seat next to France.

As everyone was just finishing sitting down Canada stood up and whispered something in Germany's ear. Germany then turned his head to glare at America, who held the notecard over his mouth, shrugging.

"Apparently," Germany groaned. "Since America is taking his pact of silence, I have been entrusted to be in charge of these meetings. Let us get started."

The rest of the meeting went on as usual. Except, without the outbursts from America. England was doing an okay job paying attention to everyone else. But America kept on distracting him. Not only was he sitting still in his chair, but he was actually taking notes. They looked like diligent ones, too.

"So, do I smell l'amour in the air?" France whispered to England while China was talking about something involving taxes.

"You should really be paying attention to these things, frog," England snapped at him, but making sure to keep his voice low. He didn't want to offend China by talking during his presentation.

"But even you aren't paying attention," France pointed out.

"Shut it, I don't know what you're talking about," England hissed.

"You cannot take your eyes off Amerique," France grinned.

"Shut it, cheesy monkey," England rolled his eyes. He wasn't in the mood for him right now.

"You know, your insults become half-baked whenever you're distracted," France quirked an eyebrow.

"Fine," England sighed. "I may be distracted, but it is _not_ love."

"You cannot hide it from the country of l'amour," France grinned. "And I heard you talking with him. If I am not mistaken, that was basically a confession of your undying love for him."

"I do not love him," England squinted his eyes at France.

"You haven't been able to stop thinking about him since the Revolution," France grinned. "And whenever you happen to get drunk around me, he's all you can talk about. You've never been able to tear your eyes off him."

"Don't make me hurt you," England threatened. Granted, all of the things he was saying was true. But England would refuse to admit he loved America to France. Never.

"It is obvious he loves you back," France offered. "He's going through a week of silence just to get your approval of him."

"I know that," England snapped quietly.

"You could just tell him that," France said bluntly. "So he knows he's not doing all of this for nothing."

"I don't know…" England muttered, sinking in his chair.

"How about you try supporting him in this?" France placed a hand on England's shoulder.

"Don't touch me," England said quickly.

"Now, if you excuse me," France stood up. "It's my turn to talk."

England groaned inwardly. He stole a glace over towards America, whose gaze quickly moved over to France at the other end of the room.

England started tapping his fingers on the table. He never thought he would actually get good love advice from France…

***Page Break***

England stood in front of the door to America's house. At least he thought it was America's house. To be honest, he had never been to it before. And all he knew was what Canada had told him.

He was slightly scared to ring the doorbell. America might answer the door. He was only here to show America he had his support. It had been six days since the meeting, meaning six days had passed since America made his pact of silence. And six days had passed since England had spoken to him…

England was snapped out of his thoughts when the door opened in front of him, revealing Canada. He looked like he was just about to step out, but stopped, looking surprised to see England there.

"Oh," Canada was the first to talk between the two. "I didn't know you were still in the country, England."

"Yeah," England rubbed the back of his head. "I…I just came to see America."

"Last time I checked on him, he was working up in his room," Canada said, stepping aside to give England room to walk into the house. The house was big enough to be a mansion and it all looked perfectly clean. Everything from the kitchen to the living room was spotless.

"Does he usually keep it this clean?" England asked as he looked around, taking off his shoes.

"No," Canada said. "He cleaned it when he started his pact."

"Really?" England asked. Did his words make America change that much?

"He's also stopped eating fast food and playing video games," Canada stated.

"Jesus, really?" England took a step back.

"Yeah," Canada smiled. "I never knew he could actually cook until now. And, when he's trying, he can actually get a lot of work done."

"Is he mad at me at all?" England asked. "For what I said."

"Not at all," Canada shook his head. "I think what you said before the meeting helped with that. He's been a lot happier. Um, I guess I should bring you up to his room."

"Right," England nodded. Canada led him up the large staircase and then down a hallway. They eventually got to a door. Canada turned towards him with a finger over his mouth before he opened the door.

"He's asleep," Canada said. "That's why I was about to leave, because I knew he wouldn't wake up for a while."

England stepped into the room and looked around. It seemed like it would be America's room, except that it was impeccably clean. There was a king size bed on one side with the American flag as the comforter and American flags as the pillows, there was a dresser with a TV on it pointed at the bed, which Arthur noticed was unplugged, and there was a desk. Leaning on the desk, in what looked like a deep slumber, was America. Under his head was a pile of papers that looked like work. Half of it was filled out.

"The only time I can get him to talk is in his sleep," Canada whispered, but they both knew that an earthquake could happen around America and it wouldn't wake him up.

As if on cue, America snorted, rather cutely England might add, and muttered something that sounded an awful lot like, "England."

"Would you mind watching him while I go out?" Canada asked politely. "I trust you to be able to make sure he doesn't break his pact of silence."

"Um, sure," England nodded. He hadn't seen America sleep since he was a little kid. He looked so peaceful…

"Thanks," Canada said as he departed.

Soon after England heard the front door close, he stepped into the room and knelt down next to America. "America?" he asked softly, lightly shoving America's shoulder to get him to wake up. "America, wake up."

Suddenly, America bolted upright, obviously shocked out of his sleep. England stood up and took a small step back. America looked over at England and looked like he was about to say something, but his eyes just widened in shock. Before England could even blink, America wrapped him in a tight hug.

"Um, hello, America," England muttered. Normally, he would be quite alarmed of being hugged so tightly, but it was rather calming, all considering. America pulled them apart and smiled brightly at England. "So you really aren't mad at me anymore?" America violently shook his head. "Um, would you mind if I made some tea in your kitchen?"

America brightened even more, if that was even possible, and shook his head. He held onto England's hand and led him down the stairs and through the house until they got to the kitchen. America held up a finger in front of himself and opened up a cabinet, looking like he was searching for something. Eventually, he dug out a small little box and handed it to England.

England looked down to examine the small box, when he realized that it held Earl Grey tea…

England quickly looked up at America. "You keep tea in your house?" he asked. America nodded. Then he held up four fingers in one hand and pointed the other hand at England. "For me?" he asked and America nodded. "Thank you," England smiled softly. Suddenly, he wasn't in the mood for tea.

"You know, America," England looked back down at the box of tea. "I, um, I just came here to tell you that I'm supporting you with this whole thing. The silence and actually working. If that's what you want to do, then I will support you with it because…well…" England could feel himself start to blush. He was really about to finally tell America how he felt about him… But he was cut off by another hug by the American, who nuzzled his head onto England's shoulder.

The confession could wait. This moment was just too damn perfect.

***Page Break***

It was getting late, England noticed after a while. Canada had come back hours ago and they had already had dinner (turns out, America could actually cook pretty well by himself) and had played a couple board games. They played Clue, Life, and got through some of a game of Monopoly before they got bored. America had resorted to charades to communicate with England and Canada. He was rather hilarious at it, which resorted in a fun night.

"I should probably get going," England said, standing up from their current game of Clue. He looked at the grandfather clock in the living room and it read 11 o'clock. England still had to get back to his hotel room.

America stood up quickly and grabbed onto England's arm, a pleading look on his face.

"I think he wants you to stay," Canada chuckled softly.

"I think it might be best if I go back to my hotel and come back tomorrow," England told America. "When you can talk."

America shook his head furiously. He pointed a finger down to the ground, still clinging to England's arm.

"Where would I stay, then?" England asked.

America feverishly pointed at his chest.

"I think he wants you to stay in his room," Canada laughed quietly.

"With him?" England squeaked, his face flushing red. America, apparently oblivious to the situation, nodded his head. "I-I think it would be best if I went to my hotel room," England quickly sputtered out and tried to walk towards the front door.

But America pulled on his arm to get him to stay. England turned towards him and tried to tell him to let go, but America had pulled out his signature puppy dog face that England could never resist, even if he tried. England closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

"If that's what you want, then," England sighed and America jumped up and down like an excited kid, smiling big. Before England knew it, he was being tugged back over to the living room to finish their game of Clue.

***Page Break***

England could barely hold in his laughter. Canada had gone to bed nearly a half hour ago. It was only a couple minutes until midnight, and America was simply playing charades with England in the living room. So far, he had been a cat, a dragon, a pirate, a cowboy, and Germany. That last one was the one that was making England laugh. America had pulled his hair back to look like Germany and looked around with a fake stoic expression and used a napkin to clean the floor and the table and the couch and the TV.

America stole a quick glance at the clock as he was making his hair go back to normal. Arthur checked it, too. One minute to midnight. One minute until America could talk again. America quickly turned towards England and held out one finger in front of him, signaling that he had one more.

"Okay, shoot," England smiled at him. He noticed America shift a little bit on his feet and awkwardly rub his arm. Then he looked back at England. He pointed at his eye. "I," England guessed and America nodded. Then, America made the shape of a heart with his hands and held it above his chest where his heart was. "Heart?" England guessed. He knew that wasn't the right word, but he was getting nervous now. America shook his head and England gulped. "Love?" England muttered quietly. America nodded and then he slowly pointed a shaky finger at England.

England closed his eyes and sighed. He was going to have to do this eventually. He opened his eyes and stood up. He took a glance at the clock and noticed that there was just a few seconds left before midnight. He stood right in front of America.

He pointed towards himself, poking his chest. And then, sucking in a deep breath, he held up two fingers, looking up at America's face. Why did he have to be so much taller than him?

America smiled brightly. He leaned forward and, placing a hand on the back of England's head to pull him forward too, softly kissed England.

The clock started chiming, signifying that it had just struck midnight.

England froze for a second at the feel of America's lips on his, but by the time the clock chimed for the third time, he found himself closing his eyes and kissing him back.

They stayed like that, in a peaceful abyss, until the clock chimed for the 12th time, when America finally leaned away.

"Worth it," America's voice was soft and it croaked from lack of use. But it was beautiful all the same. "Totally worth it." He smiled softly and England pulled him in to another kiss.

England could hear the sound of America's stomach rumbling and he pulled away, chuckling slightly. "If you're hungry, would you like me to take you to McDonalds?" England chuckled.

"Please!" America cried out, hugging tightly onto England. "I think I might die from withdrawl!"

"So much for changing," England chuckled.

"Hey, you were the one who said I didn't need to," America pulled away and raised an eyebrow.

"And I was quite right about that," England smiled.

America's stomach growled again. "Can we go now?" America whined. "I am in need of a cheeseburger. Stat."

"Sure thing," England grabbed onto his coat, checking to make sure his wallet was in it. He would definitely be needing it.

"So," America slung his arm over England's shoulders and led him to the front door. "What are you gonna be eating?"

* * *

**Bah, crappy ending, but whatever... So, technically this is for America's birthday. But I was going to put up a different one for his special day. A better one and stuff, but I just couldn't get it done. I might put it up later. On Canada's birthday or something, no doubt. But hey, I promised some of you guys some USUK one-shots. And this is pretty USUK, no denying!**

**Anywho... reviews are love and make a very happy writer. And a happy writer writes more one-shots for you all.**

**I don't own Hetalia.**


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